


Somewhere I belong

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Romance, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 09:45:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair finds something he was looking for. [11/23/03</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere I belong

## Somewhere I belong

#### by silvina

  
Standard Disclaimer. See there's this bridge. . .Please send comments, questions, compliments, and otters to sdelcul@yahoo.com.   
  
  


* * *

"Hey Blair, wait up!" 

He paused upon recognizing the voice. "What's up, Tiffany?" 

"I need a favor, man. Can you cover for me tomorrow? I know you don't have a class until one." 

"Sure. What room?" 

"Williams 360. Thanks, Blair." {Cocksucker} 

Blair started. "What'd you say?" 

"I said, 'Williams 360.'" {Pay attention, nitwit} 

Shockingly her lips had stopped moving way before he heard the words. Unless Tiffany had become a ventriloquist he must be hearing things. 

"Okay, sure." 

"Thanks Blair. I gotta go." {Finally.} 

She walked away and Blair watched her go, feeling like he was seeing the inside of one of Jim's zones or something. Shrugging it off he headed back to his office to finish up. 

Entering Hargrove Hall, he ran into his office, sure that he was going insane. At first, hed thought he was just overhearing people. He often heard rude comments as he passed by certain officers down at the station, and he wasnt self-absorbed enough to think that everyone at the university loved him either, but it had never been this blatant before. Hed passed half a dozen people. Three apparently thought of him as an annoying smart ass. Two, thankfully, had no idea who he was, although one thought he had a cute ass, and the third, well, clearly faded jeans were not considered appropriate office wear by some tenured department heads. By the time he passed the department secretary, who thought he should cut his hair because he looked like a girl, he knew that he wasnt overhearing anything. Peoples lips werent moving. What he was apparently hearing, was what people really thought of him. 

He sat down heavily, not caring that hed knocked over a pile of books on his way. This isnt normal. Hah. Normal? 'So, the little voices told you to do it . . . ' That would go over very well with his therapist after he was committed. 

His hands were running through his hair when the phone rang. In surprise, his watch caught in his hair, and he yanked out a chunk of scalp. Fuck! 

Breathing heavily he picked up the phone. Yeah, what? 

Sounds like you already know what Im going to say. 

Hey, Jim. Sorry, just wasnt expecting the interruption. 

Im sorry. too. Cant talk long either, so you can get back to whatever I interrupted. 

I didnt mean you. he muttered sheepishly. 

Glad to hear it, but it doesnt change that Ive got to cancel lunch. 

Okay. Im not feeling very hungry anyway. 

You okay? Not sick or anything? 

Nah, Im fine. But thanks for asking. Really. 

Okay then, if youre sure everythings okay, Ive got to go before Simon wets himself. 

Snickering at that image he was smiling as he hung up. Then his eye caught on the picture he kept on his desk of Jim and the detectives of Major Crime. Did he really want to know what they thought of him? 

'Breathe Sandburg.' 

He could hear Jim saying the words to him, and at first it help tremendously. Then he realized what would happen if he went home. 

If he went home he would hear just what Jim thought about him. He would hear in explicit detail much Jim was putting up with. Oh, he knew they were friends. He was sure that Jim did care for him, regardless of the whole Guide business. But he also knew that he wasn't the easiest person to live with, especially for someone like Jim. He really didn't want to know what thoughts ran through Jim's head when he sighed after Blair made a mess in the living room, or did something weird. He didnt want to know how much of their relationship was based on his having a cute ass and being reasonably helpful with the senses. Sure Jim loved him, but he knew that Naomi has always left him behind, and she loved him, too. His self-esteem was just fine where it was, thank you very kindly. It didnt need lowering. He couldnt stand to hear any of the things hed overheard from Naomis boyfriends or acquaintances. There were things he could live without knowing. 

Could he just stay here in his office? He'd done it before, occasionally, and Jim would buy it which was really all that mattered. If he called the loft rather than Jim's cell phone, he should be able to leave a message without actually talking to Jim. A live Jim might realize something was up, and even though hed already talked directly to Jim, theyd both been distracted. He didn't know if this thing worked over the phone. 

Maybe by morning it would be gone. If he was hallucinating or hearing things, it had to pass. He needed time. Time to just let this pass _without_ a great big epiphany about how Jim, or anyone else for that matter, felt about him. He was quite happy to put up with not knowing everything. He didn't need to have to _know_ that the reality was otherwise. 

Before he could change his mind he dialed. 

\--You have reached Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg. If you'd like to leave a message, please leave your name and number after the beep. 

\--Beep. 

"Hey Jim, it's me. I'll be working late, so I'm just gonna crash in my office." He almost left things there, but he found himself speaking again. "I'll see you tomorrow, Jim. Good night, man." 

There. Now if he could actually get some work done, he might just be on his way to recovery. He was just overworked, right? 

Seven hours later he'd managed to grade approximately three multiple choice questions. 

Frustrated he threw his favorite red pen across the room. Where it promptly nailed Jim in the chest as the door opened and Jim walked into his office. 

"Watch it, Sandburg. That things a flying missle." 

Mouth open to reply, he thought better of it. Instead, he dropped his head onto his desk, barely noticing the bounce. "What's up, Jim? I have a lot of work to do." 

"Relax, Sandburg. I just though that you might get hungry at some point. I brought dinner." 

His determination to avoid Jim sank like a rock. He didnt have the will to do it, not when the man was bringing him dinner. Maybe he could avoid doing anything annoying for one meal. 

Thanks, Jim. How was work? 

Normal. How was your day? Sounds like youve had a rough day. 

He opened his mouth to begin when he remembered his plan. Bitching about a bad day couldnt exactly be endearing. He swallowed and altered course. Could have been better, but nothing worth mentioning. Whats for dinner? 

Jim looked skeptical, but answered anyway. Grilled cheese with pickles, and salad, served with the very best in finely aged sodas from the vending machine in the faculty lounge.{Let me help, Chief.} 

Help what? 

Hmm? 

He blushed, realizing that Jim hadnt said that last part out loud. Sorry, just thinking out loud. 

Jim sat on the couch, throwing his feet up on the small table in front of him. Blair winced as a pile of exams fell to the floor, but Jim just picked up the papers and placed them back where theyd been without a word. Eat up, Chief. Youre getting scrawny. 

He grabbed a sandwich, remarkably pleased to find it still warm. So what brings you by? 

Dinner. {I missed you.} What would Naomi say if she knew her baby boy was working all day without eating. 

What makes you think I didnt have lunch? 

I know you, Sandburg. 

He blushed. Shed be okay with it if you told her I was meditating. he returned. 

Jim grinned at him and Blair couldnt help but smile back. Whoever said laughter was the best medicine was right. Blair found himself calming down remarkably. He stood up and joined Jim on the couch. 

Hey there, handsome. 

Hed caught Jim in the middle of swallowing, so Coke went flying out of his nose. There was nothing Blair could do, except laugh. 

Jim stood up, reaching for the napkins and wiped himself off. Thanks a lot, Sandburg.{Glad youre feeling better.} 

Blair scooted closer. Come here. 

Jim put down the napkins, and sat down, seemingly uninterested in whatever Blair might be selling. Yeah? 

He swung his leg around to straddle Jims lap, and heard him purr. Have I told you today that youre kinda cute when youre all wet and sticky? 

I thought you were the cute one. 

Nah, Im just an annoying smart ass. He laughed but he wasnt really kidding. His resolve not to tell Jim kept disappearing at the worst times. Of course Jim noticed the change. 

Whats up, Chief? Did someone say something? {Cause I can always kill them for you. Special Forces training was good for some things.} 

He dropped in relief, hugging Jim tightly. He had to tell him now. Sort of. 

He didnt move from where his face was hiding in Jims neck. It was warm and dark and safe there. 

I think Im going insane. 

Jim snickered, and held him tightly. Is that all? I could have told you that. 

Im serious. 

Okay. So youre going insane? 

Mhm. 

Take me with you. 

It was his turn to snicker. Youre very good at that, you know. 

{My pleasure, Chief. I dont like seeing you unhappy.} At what? 

Making me feel better. Sometimes Im not sure that I deserve you. he whispered. 

Jim pushed him away, and he was so startled that he cried out. 

Dont be an idiot, Sandburg. 

What? 

Self pity isnt your style. 

Jim? He hated the weakness in his voice, but hed had a bad day, and he just didnt understand Jims sudden metamorphosis into anger. 

If you ever say anything like that to me again . . . 

Im sorry. he interrupted. 

Jim took a deep breath and pulled him close again. Whats going on, Blair. The truth. 

I, Im just wondering how I got so lucky. Wondering what someone like you can see in someone like me. I mean, Im okay, but I know I can be annoying and . . . 

Jims hand covered his mouth, stopping his nervous words. 

{How can someone so smart be so stupid?} Blair, I love you. Its as simple as that. 

But why? 

Where is all this coming from? {Geez, Blair, youre scaring me.} 

When I was growing up, I can remember the men Naomi dated. I can remember the ones who thought of me as an inconvenience, a pain in the ass. Even the ones who tolerated me were just putting up with me for her. Sure a few of them were nice to me, maybe even enjoyed having me around, but only until we moved on. None of them tried to keep in touch with me. None of them cared once we werent there. 

Jim didnt interrupt, but he began rubbing Blairs back. 

I can remember hearing them with Naomi or when she was gone. I know I can get on your nerves and stuff, but I swear I try not to. Just let me know, ok? If it gets to be to too much just let me know. 

He pulled away from Jims warm hold just enough to look him in the eye. Ok? 

Jim looked at him, seeming to be searching for something. Whatever he might have been looking for, he didnt seem to find it. Ok. 

He didnt elaborate, didnt yell, didnt do anything but kiss Blair until they both needed to breathe. 

He lay down, pulling Blair to lay across him like a blanket. The strength of his arms, the tenderness of his hold, were like a balm. Blair listened to Jims heartbeat as gentle hands threaded through his hair, massaging his scalp and down his shoulders. For the first time he was glad to hear what someone really thought of him. The words dancing through Jim Ellison were pure poetry. 

Love. 

Attraction. 

Affection. 

Passion. 

Devotion. 

Worship. 

Reverence. 

Adoration. 

* * *

He woke up groggy to find that his face was creased from sleeping over a notebook. He was in his office, the notebook: an old journal. Silly to realize that it had all been a nightmare. The clock read 1:32 am. 

He remembered now that hed come across the journal in a box of stuff from Naomi. Reading it had obviously brought up old insecurities as hed fallen asleep in the middle. 

Jim must have gone to bed hours ago. 

He arrived home quickly, not noticing the sandwich wrappings he was leaving on his desk. 

Quietly he climbed up the stairs almost collapsing as he surveyed Jims sleeping figure. He was curled up on his side around Blairs pillow. 

Wanting only to look at him for a while, Blair found himself crawling onto the bed and replacing the pillow with his own body. Even asleep Jim seemed to sense the difference, his body relaxing as his arms tightened around Blair. 

Blairs head rested over Jims heart. Fading memories of his dream surfaced as he listened to his partners heartbeat. In its regular rhythm he heard poetry. 

* * *

End Somewhere I belong by silvina: sdelcul@yahoo.com  
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Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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